your head is running wild again
by jehandora
Summary: and you could embroider constellations between her fingers and you could not be a monster and you could be the monster she prays you're not attacking a christmas tree ripping perfumed parchments into pieces inside her as you robbed her of her name [a poem following two christmases in the life of remus and tonks past remus/sirius]


**I**

angels turned to stars and the let you count them  
>and she stole the moon for you and it deflated<br>and she learned to knit and make her own sweaters with every hue of the rainbow so that she'd remember who she was while you followed him behind the veil and she'd be drained of color  
>and it is the moon<p>

and you could embroider constellations between her fingers  
>and you could let it be christmas this year and next year and again and pretend you haven't forgotten<br>and you could not be a monster

and you could

be the monster she prays you're not  
>and you know<br>like  
>talk her name in your sleep<br>like you did that evening in grimmauld place

like you did with his  
>a century ago<br>a book of history yellow and vomiting because they faded  
>one that forgot your name<br>and swallowed his  
>and spitted it out<br>but you can't let that happen to her name  
>you can't<br>_you can't_

_you're wearing molly's ombre sweater  
>you never asked for rainbows, really<br>when you were a little girl you would craft them between your clumsy fingers  
>with paper and glitter<br>and papa would wave his wand to help but wouldn't let you see_

_you never asked for rainbows and shit  
>you learned you were supposed to be a princess and then growled that you were the dragon and then growled that no<br>why couldn't you be both  
>and you found your shit on your own<br>and you showed them that aurors can be powerful_

_with pink hair and ripped tutu skirts  
>when they don't get no shit from nobody<br>when they fail stealth and tracking and listen to weird sisters  
>and get drunk in pubs and have amazing sex with boys and girls and everything in between<br>because no one could limit you no one and you were made of flames and you were _

_pink_

_and you could do it it was working it really was  
>and you never asked for rainbows<br>you gave them away  
>you morphed them in your hair<br>all you asked for was rain_

_clarity and adventure  
>chocolate and freedom and gender equality<br>and maybe a new cleansweep that isn't fraying on the edges  
>but next thing you knew it was christmas<br>and you should have been constantly vigilant_

_because a young auror that respects herself shouldn't get trapped by a bewitched mistletoe  
>and get her stomach full with fireflies that prickled and swelled<br>until she was inside out  
>and his lips tasted of chocolate and firewhiskey<br>but you'd seen the latter on your cousin's lips_

_you  
>should<br>_have known

**II**__

you were laughing in the kitchen, dancing your way around the counter, accio'ing the remaining firewhiskey and talking shit of umbridge  
>and if you were a poet you'd parted your lips and tasted the cherry blossoms<br>off of the cord of her neck  
>but you're no poet<br>so your fingers interlaced and she stole the last piece of chocolate cake under your filthy snout and you wouldn't have that because what kind of werewolf has his cake stolen

by a bubbly auror  
>who has failed stealth and tracking<br>and her hair is a meadow of violets today  
>and her eyes<br>and you can't set a foot on the youthful dew without being stung by thorns

and you sneaked like teenagers in the living room  
>swallowing a secret spell from each other's chocolaty alcoholic breath<br>as if it was illegal  
>to taste like cocoa and chili and smell like cherries and have dead leaves on your hair because it is winter and it's better than a flower crown because you're a nymph and you need nothing to prove this<br>but yourself

and here is the living room  
>here is the grandfather clock that shoots heavy bolts to every passerby<br>here are the christmas lights, one for every minute that ticks into darkness  
>and where you kissed him again by his mother's portrait<br>and when you died again with her blessing

_and then redied_

_as you morphed your hair  
>black and long and a beard and darker skin<br>and eyes that sparkled with mischief  
>you wish you could morph your laughter into a bark too<br>the way you morphed your breath into a husky hitch_

_and you offered him _him  
><em> and he loved you as the hourglass inhaled<br>and then he hated you with a passion  
>because he said you weren't you<br>and he loved you for you_

_he loved you_

she loved you

**III**

it was christmas and she loved you and you craved her touch and you didn't think of him even when he was in the same building in the creaky attic turning around from the hippogriff and bending in two  
>breathless<br>while you kissed her sweet  
>again and again<br>your hand on the satin pool of her back

wishing you couldn't love her  
>wishing you'd just suffer without suffering more<br>but you loved her  
>and he knew<br>and he half-teased that if you hurt his little cousin he'd feed your sorry ass to kreacher and hex your fucking balls off

and the worst part was

_ you knew he meant it_

_he said i love you and then he took it back and rewinded seven thousand times  
>but you knew he meant it<br>and you knew he craved your breath the way you craved his  
>the way the candles flickered and the fire crackled and the fireflies inside your stomach swallowed you raw<br>the way you could take over the world and snog senselessly on the couch by the glimmering lights and then_

_then you exchanged christmas presents  
>a scarf you knitted without magic<br>he said you'd always keep him warm  
>and your world smiled<br>and you wore your wood-carved fairy earrings and kissed_

_him_

_ that_

_ the thing he had inside_

**IV**

a monster

attacking a christmas tree  
>ripping perfumed parchments into pieces<br>inside her  
>unmorphed and even more dangerous<br>as you robbed her of her name

as you had your scars laced together by her tongue  
>and shuddered at the moons reflected inside her irises<br>as they captivated you in that same nightmare  
>that you debauched her with your claws and fangs<br>as you did to them to your friends to everything you had in a green tide murderous like a curse and her hair was green

that christmas eve  
>streaked with red because she was feeling festive<br>and she was a walking cliché  
>in a purple ugly hinkypunk sweater a little too short when she stretched over the table for another glass of eggnog<br>with silver tinsel around her neck

her mouth on your mouth  
>her name between them<br>she bit it off of your lips to take it away and you felt the need to protect it from the dust  
>and breathe its hideous beauty into eternity<br>_nymphadora_

_ obliviate_


End file.
